


if you see the wonder (of a fairytale)

by cliffhangers



Category: The 100 (TV), The Night Circus - Erin Morgenstern
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Circus, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Love, soft, we love a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:21:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25694188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cliffhangers/pseuds/cliffhangers
Summary: Clarke’s the daughter of a clockmaker. Lexa’s the girl who travels with the circus. They cross paths when they’re six and then time and time again.a story about meetings and yearning and memorable nights and people that are simply meant to be togetheraka Clexa in The Night Circus AU
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Jake Griffin, Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	1. summer six

**Author's Note:**

> I really liked The Night Circus and the mysticism of that universe so I decided to fit Clexa in.  
> first fic - please enjoy!

It’s raining – thick, heavy sheets of water fall in wavelike patterns across the sky. Thunder rumbles in the distance, always preceded by a quick flash of lightning. 6-year-old Clarke Griffin sits up in bed, blonde hair in disarray. She brushes a few strands out of her face, gets out of bed, and plods over to the window.

Outside, illuminated by the sporadic flashes of lightning, is the familiar old oak tree that Jake taught her to climb. Other than that, in all directions, is just a large expanse of grass.

But Clarke’s attention is caught on something new – in the distance there are, for lack of better words, pointy shapes. They seem to be fluttering in the storm, tossing back and forth whenever the wind decides to become particularly harsh.

Clarke tries to see more closely, even pressing her nose flat against the window, but to no avail. It is too dark outside, the shapes are too far away, and the lightning disappears too fast. With a sigh, Clarke clambers back into bed, pulls the covers back over herself, and resolves to try and sleep through the storm. The pointy shapes in the distance can wait until tomorrow.

* * *

The next morning, all signs of the storm have vanished. Clarke pads downstairs from her room softly, her toes curling slightly against the cold of the furnished wooden steps. Jake and Abby are already downstairs, fixing breakfast.

“Morning,” Clarke utters softly.

Both of her parents turn around from the stove. “Good morning honey!” Abby smiles.

“Hey kiddo!” says Jake, grinning as he flips a chocolate chip pancake expertly in the pan. “Sleep through the storm ok?”

“Actually,” Clarke replies, “I saw something pointy outside my window during the storm.”

“Something pointy huh? Right outside your window?”

“No, no,” Clarke says quickly. “It was far away. I couldn’t see because it was dark.”

“Ahhhh,” Abby interjects. “I think you saw the circus tents!”

“Circus tents?” Clarke repeats wonderingly. “What’s a circus?”

Abby looks at Jake knowingly. “Well you can find out tonight, how about that?”

Clarke shrugs. Satisfied for the time being, she accepts the plate of pancakes that Jake has handed to her and begins to eat.

It’s a Saturday, and a rare Saturday as well, since neither Jake nor Abby have work scheduled for the day. Abby is a doctor—professionally known as Dr. Griffin--but her clinic only opens on weekends if there is an emergency.

And Jake is a clockmaker, both designing and fixing all kinds of intricate clocks with fancy designs. It is because of Jake’s job that the Griffins moved to the country before Clarke was born—the open space gave Jake all the room he needed to tinker and store supplies. Orders for clocks come in at sporadic times by way of mail, but this happens to be a special Saturday where Jake happened to not book anything.

Since it is a free day for all 3 Griffins, they spend most of the day inside, reading books and playing games. Clarke is dubbed by both parents as “the best hider” in hide-and-seek, as her small body allows her to fit right behind the drawers that were supposed to be propped against the wall.

Both hiding and seeking take their toll on the Griffins though – by the time they’re all ready to eat dinner, all of the running around combined with the hot muggy summer air has resulted in 3 sweaty, tired family members.

The Griffins all shower, and Abby and Jake prepare dinner. When Clarke comes downstairs in her bathrobe, freshly clean, her eyes widen. Both of her parents are dressed to the nines.

Jake is sporting a crisp white dress shirt and black slacks, topped off with a red tie. His jacket is hanging near the front door, but it seems hard to believe that anyone could stomach the full suit get-up in this type of hot weather.

Abby, on the other hand, is wearing a long form-fitting black dress made of velvet, dotted with various sparkles that swirl in indistinguishable patterns. Her hair is twisted and placed on the right side of her neck, and there is a red rose attached above her left ear. Abby sees Clarke coming down the stairs, and immediately stops plating dinner.

“Oh Clarke honey, we have to find you something to wear! I almost forgot,” she exclaims.

“Like what?” Clarke wonders.

Abby leads Clarke back upstairs, rummages through Clarke’s closet, and pulls out a simple black-and-white dress. The top part of the dress is black velvet like Abby’s, but with no design. The skirt, however, is white and frilly, and just a bit shy of being as voluminous as a tutu. Abby helps Clarke into the dress, as well as her tights, and then ties Clarke’s hair into a ponytail with a black ribbon.

“There you go, my beautiful daughter,” Abby appraises.

“Thank you, Mommy. You look pretty too,” Clarke replies back shyly.

The two of them then head downstairs, where Jake has finished plating the food. Dinner is relatively quiet, since all 3 Griffins are hungry from chasing each other around the house all day.

After dinner and family dish-washing time, they head over to the doorway to put on their shoes. Jake decides to forgo his suit jacket, and they proceed to head out the door—all in great anticipation of the circus.

Clarke walks between her parents, Jake on her left, Abby on her right. She swings her arms as she walks, chattering excitedly.

“How long will we have to walk? Why did we dress up? What’s inside a circus? How long are we going to stay there?”

“Calm down, Clarke,” Jake reassures. “We’re almost there.”

And they are almost there – the pointy shapes that Clarke saw the night before have materialized into being. They are actually the tops of circus tents, each with a long triangular flag hanging limply in the summer air. Clarke looks on in wonder, all questions forgotten. She walks a little faster too, pulling Jake and Abby along as they chuckle at her intrigue.

When they reach the front of the circus, Clarke gasps at just how tall the closest circus tents are. She walks up to the gates barring the entrance to the circus and presses her face gently against the bars. There is a ticket booth, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone inside.

“Come on, kiddo,” Clarke hears. She turns to see Jake and Abby smiling at her affectionately, motioning her over.

And then Clarke also sees, to her chagrin, a long, long line of people waiting for the circus gates to open. Clarke pouts as Jake and Abby lead her to the back of the line, waiting in anticipation.

At nightfall, just as the last few rays of the sun sink below the horizon, Clarke hears a soft popping noise. She turns abruptly and then sees small sparkling lights dot themselves all across the circus tents, flickering in the randomest of patterns.

And then when all of the tents are aglow, stretching as far as the eye can see, the front of the gate begins to spark.

More small lights flicker to light, previously unnoticed on the iron gates, spelling out scripted letters:

_Le Cirque des Rêves_

“The Circus of Dreams”

And then finally, the iron gates open. They unlock seemingly on their own and swing outwards, welcoming the long line of people inside to the circus.

The ticket line starts moving slowly. With each step Clarke takes, her curiosity increases. When they finally, _finally_ reach the front of the line, Jake speaks briefly to the man behind the counter and then shakes hands with him firmly.

“It’s good to see you again, Bailey,” he calls as he walks away.

Clarke is too busy trying to peer around the various tents to realize that the three of them have gotten into the circus for free, without tickets.

The rest of the night passes by as if time does not exist. Clarke follows her parents down looping path after looping path, exploring clusters of tents in all different sizes. Marking the entrance to each tent without fail is a rectangular sign, black as night with font scripted in white, providing a title for each tent.

There are tents with the sort of thing any circusgoer might expect: firebreathers, jugglers, palm readers. But there is also a tent with an entire river inside, a tent with a garden made entirely of ice sculptures, a tent with different-colored paper planes that seem to be flying on their own.

Clarke’s eyes are now almost permanently as wide as saucers as she takes in tent after tent, spectacle after spectacle. She exits one tent and enters another, and the circus accommodates, providing an endless supply of entertainment.

Clarke loses track of all time, but it seems that her parents have not. Jake, after all, is a clockmaker. She’s just about to rush into the next tent, when she hears, “Clarke! This is the last one for tonight okay?”

Clarke spins around and pouts, “But I want to have more fun!”

“I know honey, but you’ll see the circus again, and it’s getting late. One more tent. We’ll let you pick,” Abby replies.

With this new information in mind, Clarke resolves to skip the nearest tent and looks for one that seems truly exciting.

And then she sees a tall, thin tent, the tallest she has seen as of yet. It is a soft white color and towers above the rest of the tents in front of it.

“That one!” Clarke points, and then they’re off.

The Griffins make their way inside tent once they’ve reached it, and immediately see an iridescent white structure that takes up the majority of the tent. It is made up of various platforms, each shaped in some way like a cloud. Some of the platforms move slowly, while others remain stationary, and the spacing between platforms varies from level to level.

There are white ropes keeping platforms suspended in place, while others have netting or poles. All in all, it looks like—

—“A cloud forest,” Clarke breathes, eyes alight with excitement.

Jake grins. “And there’s clouds on the floor too, Clarke. Look!”

Jake gestures to the floor of the tent and Clarke sees the thousands of small fluffy white spheres littering the tent floor. She picks one up, and it is just about the softest thing she’s ever felt. Clarke marvels at this wonder, and then gently sets it back down.

Jake tosses one of spheres in his right hand, the other stroking his chin. “Hmm…” he ponders out loud. “How about a race, kiddo?”

“A race?” Clarke repeats.

Jake nods. “Sure. First one to the top wins! And if you win, I’ll buy you a circus treat, how’s that?”

“Me against you and mommy?” Clarke clarifies.

“You got it.”

And with that challenge, Clarke sets off, determined to beat her parents to the top of the cloud forest. She clambers from cloud platform to cloud platform, sometimes bravely jumping across platforms as well. She completely forgets about how high the tent goes – that is, until she reaches a dead end.

Well, not entirely. The platform that Clarke jumped from was one that moved, so she can return to her original route by timing the platform’s motion correctly and jumping. However, the adrenaline of racing her parents has now worn off, and Clarke feels a little frightened now. How is she supposed to get down?

She chances a glance downwards and tries her best to squeeze her imminent tears back into her eyes. Everyone at the tent entrance level is so small they seem more like sticks than people.

Clarke clenches her jaw and closes her eyes, trying to screw up any courage she has left. That is, until—

“Are you stuck?” she hears from a little bit away. It’s a girl’s voice, high and clear.

Clarke opens her eyes, and sees on the other side of the moving cloud platform a young girl who seems to be her age. The girl has her hair in a braid, tossed over her right shoulder.

“I—I think so,” Clarke stutters out. “Can you help me?”

Without responding verbally, the girl jumps gracefully onto the moving platform and then right to where Clarke is, showing no fear or hesitation whatsoever.

However, rather than be impressed with the agility of her new potential savior, Clarke is preoccupied with the girl’s eyes – they are the greenest eyes Clarke has ever seen, and remind her of the forest where Jake once took her to harvest wood for his clocks.

When Clarke snaps out of her thoughts, she realizes the girl has been speaking to her.

“What’s your name? Hello? Are you okay?” the girl asks.

“Oh—oh yeah! I think I’m okay. My name’s Clarke. How do I get back to the—the big cloud area?” Clarke responds quickly.

“Okay, I think I can show you, but it will probably be easier if I just do it with you,” the girl urges.

Clarke, unsure why she already trusts this girl with pretty green eyes who she doesn’t know the name of, nods slowly.

The girl straightens up. “Okay grab my hand, and when I say jump, jump with me okay?”

Clarke’s heart skips a beat and her eyes widen in fear. “Um…um...” she gets out.

The girl looks directly into Clarke’s eyes. “It’s okay, I got you. I’ve been in this tent tons of times, so we’ll be alright.”

So Clarke takes the girl’s hand, and jumps when the girl urges, “Jump!” And then they’re on the moving cloud, and Clarke figures that a second leap of faith can’t hurt, and jumps again when the girl prompts her to.

When they finally return back in the main part of the cloud forest. Clarke’s hand is sweaty from fear, so she carefully detaches it from the girl’s and wipes it on her dress. She breathes hard for a second, and then turns to the girl.

“Thank you,” she beams. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Lexa.” The girl—Lexa—responds calmly.

“Lek-sa,” Clarke tries it out. “I’m Clarke.”

Lexa smiles at that, small and simple, and Clarke can’t help but smile back in return.

“Well, Clarke,” Lexa responds in kind, clicking the ‘k’, “Would you like to climb to the top with me?”

“The top?” Clarke gasps. “You mean-?!”

Lexa ducks her head, smiling again. “Yes, the very top.”

Clarke’s features instantly school into that of determination. “Let’s do it.”

But instead of just taking off like Clarke expects, Lexa holds out her right hand, palm up. She looks at Clarke expectantly. And Clarke? Clarke is helpless, already, after knowing this little girl for less than 10 minutes.

Clarke places her left hand in Lexa’s right, and they slowly but steadily begin to climb up the cloud forest. Together.

Lexa, of course, has been in the tent ‘tons of times’, and has no trouble navigating through crowds of people or tricky cloud platform paths that seem to disappear and then reappear again.

Clarke, however, becomes increasingly stumped every time a platform floats away from them, _just_ out of reach. She grumbles a little, but Lexa is always there, reassuring her that there are other paths, that they didn’t need that little cloud anyway.

At some point, their hands become detached, because they don’t just have to jump, but also clamber up bigger cloud platforms and climb up ladders. And then finally after following Lexa up one last cloud ladder, the two six-year-olds have made it to the very top of the tent.

Clarke is panting a tiny bit from the exertion, but her breaths soon even out. She does a full 360-degree spin slowly, gaping the whole time.

The people down below still look like small sticks, but this time Clarke can appreciate the soft white clouds floating around the tent in every direction. The platforms were solid, but all around her now are fluffy wisps, some amorphous, some shaped like animals. They move slowly, some rising up and down while others gradually make their way around the tent.

“Wow,” Clarke breathes. “Thank you for showing me this.” She instinctively reaches for Lexa’s hand and receives a reassuring squeeze in response.

“Thank you for letting me,” Lexa replies quietly.

They stand there for a bit, just taking in the view. Clarke’s chest expands with this feeling of freedom, and she smiles at everything and absolutely nothing. Lexa on the other hand is stoic compared to Clarke, but the small smile that once appeared on her face has returned once more, and her green eyes twinkle appreciatively.

“Wait…” Clarke ponders after some time has passed. “How do we get down?”

“We jump.”

“What?!”

“Do you trust me, Clarke?” Lexa urges.

“I…well I guess so.”

“Then jump with me on 3. Ready?”

“I—I—” Clarke stutters out.

“1, 2, 3, jump!” Lexa raises her voice a little bit.

And Lexa jumps, and it really shouldn’t be a hard decision for Clarke. She’s already traversed the cloud forest with Lexa, twice, and plus their hands are still attached. So Clarke closes her eyes and springs off the topmost platform, throwing her trust to her new friend.

When she opens her eyes again, Clarke realizes that they’re _floating_. Well, they’re falling down towards the entrance level, but at a calm, reasonable pace. Clarke turns towards Lexa.

“We’re…floating?” she questions.

Lexa affirms with a nod.

Lexa seems content to just enjoy their slow descent, so Clarke closes her mouth and urges her questions away. When they finally reach the floor, Clarke realizes that she had wanted the journey back to last even longer. This was, after all, the last tent of the night. Lexa, coincidentally, seems to have picked up on her thoughts.

“Did you come here with anyone?”

“My mommy and daddy are waiting for me I think,” Clarke says reluctantly.

The two of them step through the endless fluffy white that surrounds them on the ground until they reach the entrance. To Clarke’s disappointment, Jake and Abby are in fact waiting there, relieved smiles appearing on their faces when they see their daughter.

“Hey kiddo, where have you been?” Jake opens his arms as Clarke runs into them.

“I got stuck! But then Lexa helped me and then she showed me how to get to the top and it was so pretty and did you know you can just jump off and—”

“Slow down honey,” Abby cautions. “And is this Lexa?”

“Oh yeah!” Clarke grins enthusiastically. “This is Lexa, my new friend!”

Lexa steps forward, chin lifting just a bit. “Hello sir, ma’am,” she says politely.

“Oh come now, none of that ‘sir ma’am’ business,” Jake chides good-naturedly. “You can call me Jake, and this is Abby.”

“Thank you for looking after our Clarke here,” Abby adds.

“You’re welcome,” Lexa replies with just the ghost of a smile.

“Mommy! Daddy! Do we have to go?” Clarke jumps back in, whining and tugging on both of her parents’ clothes.

“You heard what we said Clarke. This was the last tent for us,” Jake responds, adopting a stern manner.

“We have to go, so say goodbye to Lexa ok?” Abby nudges Clarke.

Clarke turns towards Lexa, her blue eyes filled with sadness. “I have to go Lexa, but I hope I see you tomorrow! Thank you for saving me.”

Lexa’s expression doesn’t change, but somehow Clarke can read from her eyes that she is equally as disappointed as Clarke. She doesn’t say anything, so Clarke rushes forward and wraps her in a hug. She feels Lexa stiffen slightly, but then arms come around her neck and squeeze gently.

“I am glad I met you, Clarke. May we meet again,” Lexa says softly into Clarke’s ear as they hug.

When they part, Clarke is slightly confused as to the “may we meet again”, but doesn’t question it right then. She gives Lexa one last smile, turns around, takes her parents’ hands, and walks out of the tent. The whole way back home, she makes sure to give Jake and Abby the most detailed account of her adventures through the cloud forest with Lexa.

* * *

The next day, Clarke looks out her window immediately upon waking up. But there are no pointy tents in the distance or flags fluttering in the breeze. Just the vast expanse of grassy fields that have always surrounded her house.

Still refusing to believe her eyes, Clarke rushes downstairs.

“Mommy! Daddy! Can we go to the circus again today too please please please?” she rushes out.

Abby looks at her with a sad smile on her face. “Oh Clarke honey, I think the circus has left already.”

Clarke just stares at her mom, then turns to Jake nonplussed. “How can it just leave?”

“Magic, kiddo,” Jake teases.

Clarke pouts. “Can we still go see if it’s there? Just in case?”

Jake thinks for a moment. “Sure. I have to head towards town anyway – the mayor wants me to check out what’s wrong with the clocktower. Let me just grab my tools and we can go!”

Clarke perks up immediately, “Okay!”

Jake goes to gather his necessary tools as Clarke puts her socks and shoes on carefully. When he comes back, he holds out a hand. “Ready to go?”

“Yup!” Clarke responds as she takes his hand.

“See you tonight dear,” Jake says to Abby, swiftly kissing her on the cheek.

Abby laughs, “Goodbye! Take care of Clarke.”

“Bye Mommy!” Clarke says as she walks out the front door.

Clarke and Jake head towards town, crossing the field that acts as a giant backyard for their house. They take the exact same path that led the Griffins to the circus the night before.

But when they get to where the circus was, there is just an empty stretch of field. Nothing exists to suggest that there was an entire grand circus present just the night before – no peanut shells, wrappers, or even ticket stubs. There is just the hot summer sun and a young Clarke holding on to her father’s hand.

Clarke looks up at her dad, shielding her eyes from the sun. “The circus was here last night, right Daddy?”

“Of course it was,” Jake responds gently.

“Will it come back?”

“I think so. It usually does, right when you least expect it.”

“Good,” Clarke nods determinedly. “Because I want to see Lexa again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> key points: summer, cloud forest = cloud + forest (I wonder who is who?), Bailey


	2. fall douze

The next time the circus makes an appearance is when Clarke has all but forgotten about her one-night escapade from years ago. The school year has just started, and the Griffins have since moved to Paris. Jake has found a lot of business with the French, who are all enamored by the newest fad of pocket watches.

On the particular day that the circus arrives, Clarke is in art class drawing the Eiffel tower. When she goes to the back of the room to sharpen her pencil, she notices the stack of newspapers on the table near the pencil sharpener.

She makes out _Cirque_ and _Rêves_ and suddenly makes the connection – the circus must be in town.

Clarke’s heart instantly skips a beat. Suddenly, the day can’t pass by fast enough.

The rest of the day following art class becomes a blur, with Clarke hardly paying attention in any of her classes. She returns home with her bag slung over her shoulder, full of sheets of paper filled with notes that she doesn’t remember writing down. In her hands, she clutches one of the newspapers that was lying in the back of the art room, the image of circus tents on the cover.

It’s been years since the first visit to the circus, and Clarke had basically put it out of her mind when the Griffins moved to Paris. But this…this means she has the chance to explore again, to maybe try and find Lexa.

“Mom? Dad?” she calls out.

“Here, Clarke!” Abby responds. “How were your classes?”

“They were good, fine,” Clarke says quickly. “I found this newspaper during art class. I think the circus is here!” she explains, showing the newspaper to Abby.

“Oh, this is good news! It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?” Abby says in surprise. “Do you want to bring any of your friends?”

Clarke pauses to consider. While she has made some amazing, brilliant friends in Paris so far, a part of her wants to keep the circus to herself for the night. Besides, it is entirely possible that the circus will stay in Paris for multiple nights, and she can visit another day with her friends in tow.

“Maybe not tonight,” Clarke responds.

“Okay honey,” Abby accepts. “We’ll just wait for your dad to get home, and then we can go see the circus after dinner, how’s that?”

The two of them make dinner while waiting for Jake to return from whichever upper-class Parisian client he has scheduled for the day. After a few hours in which Clarke helps Abby prepare dinner and adds to some of her Eiffel tower sketch, she hears the telltale signs of their apartment door opening. Surely enough, Jake walks in.

“The circus is in town!” he announces grandly.

Clarke grins. “We know, Dad, I saw it in the paper at school today.”

“Oh did you now?” Jake pretends to be affronted. “You knew, and so you chose to spoil my good news huh?”

“But we can still go right?” Clarke says as she walks over to Jake and hugs him. “Mom already said we could go after dinner.”

“Well I guess if your _mom_ said…then we have to go right?” Jake teases.

“Oh hush now Jake, you know you have business with the circus anyway,” Abby reprimands lightly.

“Oh that’s right!” Jake remembers. “I have to talk to Bailey about it tonight. Let’s eat!”

The three Griffins sit down at the dinner table, as they do every night, and chatter amicably about their individual days while they consume their meal. After dinner, Clarke heads upstairs to rummage through her closet for something to wear. Keeping in mind the monochromatic theme that everyone seemed to have adopted last time, Clarke picks out a simple white dress. She pairs it with a black cardigan – it is fall after all, and the weather is rapidly getting colder.

* * *

The Griffins wait in the exorbitantly long line, but once again do not pay once they reach the ticket booth. Clarke nudges Abby gently as Jake strikes up a conversation with the man inside the ticket booth.

“How come we don’t have to buy tickets?”

“Your father has friends in the circus honey, didn’t you notice last time?”

Clarke, slightly taken aback, takes a moment to ponder what happened the last time she visited the circus. Eventually though, she shakes her head.

“No, I don’t think I paid attention last time.”

Abby smiles, “Well now you know.”

Satisfied with the explanation for the time being, Clarke turns back towards the ticket booth, just making out the end of Jake’s conversation.

“All right, thank you. I’m off to see Bailey then. Have a good night!” Jake waves to the man in the ticket booth. He then offers his right arm to Abby, and his left hand to Clarke. Together, the three Griffins enter the circus gates once again.

This time though, instead of wandering aimlessly, Jake seems to have a destination in mind. He leads Abby and Clarke around various tents and signs, weaving past crowds of people and exhibits that Clarke strains her neck to see.

Eventually, the three of them arrive at an inconspicuous tent – completely black, save for the white flag at the very top, fluttering in the breeze. There is no sign announcing the contents inside the tent, and furthermore there are no circusgoers milling around near the entrance. The atmosphere is calm and quiet, save for the occasional flap of the flag at the top of the tent when the wind picks up slightly.

Jake pauses at the tent’s entrance and turns to look at Clarke.

“Okay kiddo, your mom and I have to meet with the man inside this tent, so stay out here and wait for us okay? And then we can explore the circus together.”

Clarke has just begun to nod her head when she catches movement from the tent’s entrance. She turns her head, surprised, and sees – Lexa?!

And it is. Lexa has grown, just as Clarke has. Her hair is in two French braids, and her eyes are just as green as Clarke can remember. It is in this moment that Lexa locks eyes with Clarke as well, and Clarke’s heart pounds just a little bit faster.

Clarke’s parents notice Lexa too, and Jake smiles.

“Hi, Lexa was it? Clarke, you can go with Lexa while your mom and I meet in the tent, how’s that?” asks Jake.

Clarke just nods, too shocked at seeing Lexa to respond with words. Sure, she had been hoping she would see her stoically confident friend again, but what were the chances? The circus was huge, and Lexa could’ve been in any tent. Yet here she was.

While Clarke is processing, Jake fishes out a watch from his jacket pocket. It is simple yet elegant. The watch is made out of pure gold and twinkles by the light of the moon. Its face however, is an obsidian black, and the twelve numbers on a standard clock that one would expect are instead replaced by different star formations. And as per a Jake Griffin creation, the hands of the watch are meticulously crafted into gold arrows, moving methodically every second.

“Here Clarke, take this,” Jake offers the watch. “You can go with Lexa, but meet us back at the circus entrance by 1 o’clock, okay?”

“Lexa, can you make sure Clarke’s back at the entrance by 1?” Jake adds.

“Yes, sir,” Lexa responds quietly.

“Come on now, none of that. I told you last time, remember? I’m Jake,” Jake chides. “And now Abby and I must be off, so have a good time, kids!”

With that, Jake and Abby disappear into the entirely-black tent to meet with whoever is inside.

Clarke on the other hand is still in a minor state of shock. Lexa is standing right in front of her. She realizes—Lexa has actually grown to be slightly taller than her. Clarke’s eyes trace Lexa’s face until she reaches her eyes. Does Lexa even remember her? After all, it’s been 6 years, and Clarke is sure that Lexa sees hundreds of circusgoers every night, no matter where the circus travels.

But just as Clarke is doubting herself enough to ask, Lexa speaks first.

“You came back,” Clarke hears, and moreover she sees Lexa’s mouth curve up in a gentle smile.

“I—yeah…” Clarke responds, elated that Lexa remembers her.

There is so much more that Clarke wants to say and ask. What Lexa has been doing, how long she’s been with the circus, where she’s been and what kinds of people she’s seen—Clarke wants to learn about it all.

But Lexa just takes her hand silently, and all of Clarke’s questions melt away.

Lexa, just as Jake did minutes ago, knows exactly where she’s going in the circus. She swerves around tents, waves to vendors, and expertly avoids crowds of people, all the while firmly holding Clarke’s hand.

Clarke realizes she should probably be paying attention to where they’re going, but her mind is a bit occupied at the moment – Lexa’s hand in hers is too warm and comforting for her to notice anything else.

Eventually though, Clarke notices that they have stopped in front of a sizeable tent with black and white swirls decorating its outside. In cursive white font, the rectangular black sign next to it reads simply, “ _Vol_ ”.

Clarke and Lexa step inside and take their seats on the outer perimeter of the tent. In the center is a standard trapeze set-up: high, towering bars connected to long ropes. There are also colorful silks somehow dangling from the top of the tent.

Clarke is turning to Lexa to ask a question about the entrance sign when a hush falls in the tent. She turns back to the center and notices that performers have come out.

And then the spectacle begins.

There are no safety nets anywhere. Performers one after another soar across the trapeze, with each flip more elaborate than the last. The silks move and up down while people twist in and out of the colors.

Clarke gasps at each intricate stunt, leaning into Lexa out of a mixture of fear and astonishment. Her eyes attached to the performers, she fails to notice the softening of Lexa’s eyes at the contact.

Soon enough it is time for the final act. All of the performers flip themselves into the air, turning once, twice, three times before simultaneously landing softly on the ground without a sound.

Clarke is instantly on her feet, clapping as hard as she can. Lexa, smiling amusedly, rises and applauds as well. Seemingly of one mind, the audience chooses to commemorate the performance without any hoots or hollers, just thunderous applause.

As the performers bow gracefully, the audience members within the trapeze tent begin to file out. Clarke looks down at her wrist to check the time. When she looks back up, she finds Lexa gazing at her silently.

Clarke blushes. “It’s midnight, so I have an hour left before I have to be back at the entrance to meet my parents,” she explains.

Lexa mulls over the words briefly, and then softly orders, “Stay here.” She then swiftly gets up from her seat and exits the tent.

Clarke watches as the tent flap flutters closed behind Lexa, and looks around the tent. All of the audience members have left by now, and the performers have disappeared too. She should probably be a little wary, being left in a tent by herself, but Clarke trusts Lexa. So she patiently sits and waits for the other girl to return.

Soon enough, the tent entrance moves aside once more. Lexa walks back into the tent carrying a cup in each hand. Clarke watches as Lexa carefully makes her way over to her, until Lexa is close enough that Clarke can see wisps of steam rising from each cup. Lexa hands Clarke the cup in her left hand and then sits down.

Clarke peers into her cup and sees a caramel-colored liquid inside. She inhales and is immediately hit with the aroma of cinnamon. Unconsciously, Clarke’s eyes close and her shoulders relax a fraction of an inch.

When she opens her eyes, she finds Lexa gazing at her once more, the hint of a smile hanging on her lips.

“Well? Are you going to try it?” Lexa asks.

Clarke scrunches her nose. “Why Lexa,” she pretends to be affronted. “Has no one ever told you to try having some more patience?”

Lexa bumps her shoulder against Clarke’s, her hidden smile now a full-blown grin. “Just try the cider, Clarke.”

So Clarke, not yet realizing it but unable to deny Lexa anything, takes a small sip of the still-steaming cider in her cup. Surprisingly, the drink does not burn her tongue. It tastes like liquid warmth, spreading throughout Clarke’s body, all the way down to her toes.

“Whoa,” Clarke breathes, stunned at how magical the drink is.

“I told you so,” she hears Lexa mutter quietly next to her.

“Oh shush, you,” Clarke responds, bumping Lexa gently with her shoulder. “Let me drink my cider in peace.”

The two of them sit in the tent, each savoring their warm cider, a pleasant silence surrounding them. Strangely enough, the steam rising from their cups doesn’t disappear until all of the liquid is completely gone.

“Oh!” Clarke suddenly remembers. “How much was the cider?”

Lexa tilts her head slightly to the side. “It is free, Clarke,” she states.

“A-Are you sure?” Clarke asks.

“Yes.” Lexa replies resolutely.

“…Okay…” Clarke accepts skeptically. “Where did you get the cider from anyway?”

“I know someone,” Lexa replies mysteriously, and Clarke swears she sees her green eyes twinkle.

“Okay, okay,” Clarke groans. “No more cider questions, message received.”

1 o’clock comes around quickly after (and how did it come around so fast?), and Lexa dutifully leads Clarke back to the circus entrance. When they arrive at the gate, Lexa turns around to find Clarke’s mouth jutted out in a slight pout.

“I don’t want to go yet.”

“I do not want you to go either.”

At this confirmation, Clarke steps forward and wraps her arms around Lexa’s waist. Lexa starts to stiffen, still unfamiliar with such an act, but then relaxes and encircles Clarke with her arms as well.

The two of them stay like that for as long as they can, but eventually Lexa lets Clarke go.

“I’ll come back,” Clarke promises, walking towards where Jake and Abby are now waiting.

Lexa nods. “May we meet again, Clarke,” she says, and waves in farewell.

* * *

The next day at dusk, Clarke rushes back to the circus gates, this time with friends in tow.

The circus, however, is gone.

Once again, not even a trace of what has transpired the night before is left behind. Sure, there are a few orange and red leaves here and there, but that is typical of a Parisian fall. Other than that, there are no footprints, no ticket stubs, no empty cider cups.

Be that as it may, Clarke remembers the warm cider, can still smell it, can still recall every single moment of last night, and that is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> key points: Bailey's tent, the smell of cider, may we meet again


	3. winter seize

The next time Clarke and Lexa meet, Clarke is 16, and it is winter.

The Griffins had moved back to the U.S. two years prior so that Clarke could complete high school in one place. Clarke is on winter break, at home in Washington D.C., working on a design project for her architecture class. One of the advantages of having attended school in Paris, France – Clarke is now free to waive the language requirement of her high school, and is currently taking architecture instead.

She is in the process of sketching a brief outline of her design when she hears the door open.

Clarke looks up to see Jake walking through the doorway, eyes alight with excitement.

“The circus is in town, Clarke!”

Clarke starts. The circus? And then immediately – Lexa?

“We’re going, right?” Clarke asks, borderline pleading already.

“Of course we are!” Jake responds, hands waving fervently. “And don’t tell anyone, but-” he lowers his voice. “I’m actually unveiling one of my creations there tonight.”

Clarke’s eyes widen. She, of course, was aware of Jake’s ties to the circus and its owner, but was not expecting Jake to have finished the circus clock so fast.

But then again, she supposes, she shouldn’t be surprised. After all, this is her father.

“Okay,” Clarke shakes herself out of her thoughts. “We’ll just wait for Mom to come home and eat and then go.”

“Exactly what I was thinking, kiddo,” Jake affirms, grinning.

And it seems that Jake’s enthusiasm is contagious, because the rest of the day passes in a blur. It is not until Clarke walks to her closet to pick out an outfit that time seems to slow back down again.

Clarke ends up deciding on a long-sleeved white dress, made to insulate against cold weather. She slips on some heels and pulls everything together with a long, warm black coat. She looks to her parents to see Jake sporting his usual suit, but with a black tie instead of red. The red in his ensemble, instead, lies in the boutonniere pinned to his lapel. Abby, on the other hand, is dressed in a similar get-up to Clarke, the only difference being a splash of red from the ruby earrings carefully attached to her ears.

“Ready to go?” Jake asks.

Clarke nods, and the three Griffins step out of their apartment, Jake being sure to lock the door behind them.

As Clarke has now come to expect, when they reach the ticket booth, they are immediately waved inside without giving payment. Jake then looks at Clarke apologetically.

“Sorry kiddo, but your mom and I have to go find Bailey again so that we can unveil the clock properly. If you can find your way to the bonfire though, I promise at midnight something amazing will happen.”

Clarke just shrugs. She doesn’t mind wandering the circus alone, and her thoughts are more preoccupied with Lexa’s whereabouts than the fact that her parents need to go find someone named Bailey.

“Okay,” she responds. “Good luck with the unveiling, and see you later!” She waves goodbye to both of her parents, and turns to enter the throngs of the circus, heading towards the very center where the bonfire is supposed to be.

To nobody’s surprise, Clarke ends up lost soon enough. The circus paths wind in between and around tents, sometimes disappearing and other times beginning out of nowhere. Clarke looks around and huffs out a sigh of disappointment. Which way is the bonfire?

“Are you lost?” Clarke hears suddenly. She whips around, pinpointing the owner of the voice to be—

“Lexa,” Clarke breathes. And it is.

Lexa’s hair is down, soft brown curls carefully brushed over her right shoulder. Her eyes, striking emerald, are just as Clarke remembers it. Lexa has thinned out a little more, though there is a tiny trace of baby fat on her face still, and her posture is ramrod straight, impeccable. But she gazes at Clarke softly, and Clarke’s knees almost weaken from relief.

“Hello, Clarke,” Lexa greets, clicking the ‘k’ in Clarke’s name as she has always done. “It seems that I must come to your rescue once again.”

It takes Clarke a beat to answer, still stunned from just how pretty Lexa is and how nice it is to see her. But when she comes to her senses, she fires back, “Already sassing me, huh?”

Without expecting a response, Clarke walks over to Lexa and wraps her in a gentle hug.

And even though it is winter, and layers and layers of clothes separate them both, Clarke feels Lexa slowly melt into her, returning the embrace.

“I missed you,” Clarke whispers into Lexa’s ear. She feels Lexa’s arms tighten slightly around her and grins.

When they pull apart, Lexa gazes at Clarke adoringly, but Clarke doesn’t notice, too preoccupied with trying to find a way out of the maze of tents.

“So,” Clarke asks. “Do you wanna come to the bonfire with me?”

Lexa blinks for a moment before realizing that Clarke is expecting a response. “Are you asking me because you are lost, or because you actually would like me to see the bonfire with you?” she teases.

Clarke hits Lexa on the arm lightly. “What do you think, dummy? Of course I want to see the bonfire with you…though helping me find my way is definitely a bonus.”

Lexa just shakes her head with a small laugh, and invites, “Well, let us go then.”

She holds out her hand, and Clarke immediately takes it. And then they’re off, as they have been before – with Lexa expertly leading and Clarke holding onto her soft, warm hand.

This time though, Clarke is a bit more determined – she doesn’t want to get lost in the circus again, and futilely tries to remember which tents they pass and which paths to follow.

Soon enough however, too many tent patterns accumulate in her head, leaving her slightly dizzy and causing her to give up. Clarke ends up staring at the back of the girl in front of her, posture still impeccable, brown tresses flowing over her shoulder.

Lexa is so very pretty. Moreover, she is kind and sure of herself, and always remembers Clarke, even though Clarke is _sure_ Lexa has seen just about a million different circusgoers at this point. It really is a shame that she only gets to see her once every few years, because Clarke really wants to get to know the pretty girl who travels with the circus.

But before Clarke can ponder any more, she feels a tug on her hand. She looks up to find that Lexa has led them right to where the bonfire is, an unlit simple sculpture of twisted iron.

She looks around, surprised, and then notices twelve people, presumably performers from the circus, surrounding the perimeter of the bonfire area, each standing next to a circular platform.

Each performer wears solely black and white, as expected, but also carries a black bow and quiver on their back. Clarke sees them each ascend their own platform and light the tip of one arrow with small dancing red flame.

By now, the crowd around the bonfire has quieted, each person focusing on the archer nearest to them, wondering what spectacle this may result in.

The archers raise their bows, and aim their arrows towards the well of curling iron in the center of the area.

And then it’s midnight.

The clock chimes, and the first archer releases his arrow. It soars over the crowd and ignites the bonfire in an eruption of yellow flame.

And then when the clock chimes again, the second archer aims into the yellow flames, and they become a clear sky-blue.

With each chime, a new archer aims their arrow into the flame, changing it into a different color. Green. Pink. Orange. Indigo. Red. Navy. Gold. Purple. Black. And then finally, upon receiving the last arrow with the 12th chime, the flames turn white, rising higher into the air and sending up a shower of sparks.

It begins snowing, and it takes Clarke’s breath away. Sure, she has seen snow before – Paris and Washington D.C. both get their fair share of snow during the wintertime, but the circus somehow makes it more magical.

The snow falling over the bonfire itself vaporizes into sparks that glitter before dissipating. When Clarke looks up at the sky, she swears she can see the design of each individual snowflake, perfectly symmetrical crystallized fractals falling softly to the ground.

When she has had her fill of discovering different snowflake patterns, Clarke looks around the circle of circusgoers sitting around the bonfire.

She notices various splashes of red among her fellow bonfire spectators.

A glove, a handkerchief. A purse, a tie.

“Lexa?” Clarke nudges. “Is there a reason some of the people I see here wear something red on them?”

“We call them reveurs,” Lexa answers. “Dreamers. They follow the circus, and they wear a symbol of red on them to show their dedication. I believe your parents do as well, do they not?”

Clarke thinks briefly for a moment. “You’re right! I guess I’ll have to find something red to wear next time.”

“I see you are bold enough to bestow the title of reveur upon yourself,” Lexa remarks.

Clarke pretends to be offended. “Who’s going to tell me I’m not?”

“Certainly not me,” Lexa responds.

At this, Lexa reaches into the pocket of her coat and pulls out a carefully-folded red scarf. “This is for you,” she offers. “May I?”

Clarke is too stunned to properly form words, so she just nods silently.

Lexa unfolds the scarf and carefully wraps it around Clarke’s neck, once, twice, thrice. She then adjusts a few of the wrinkles that have popped up, and appraises her work.

“Beautiful,” Lexa utters quietly, and Clarke can’t help but blush.

“Oh look,” Lexa gazes at Clarke’s pink-tinted cheeks. “I guess you do not need the scarf to prove you are a reveur after all.”

Clarke’s blue eyes narrow at Lexa in a mock glare. “I’m not giving the scarf back, thank you very much. I quite like it.”

And at this Clarke leans forward and gently kisses Lexa’s cheek. “Thank you,” she murmurs softly.

When Clarke leans back, heart pounding, she notices with satisfaction that Lexa is now the one blushing, both her cheeks rosy.

“You are welcome, Clarke,” Lexa finally responds, the falling snow catching in Lexa’s hair and staying on her long eyelashes. She gazes back at Clarke, green eyes soft with adoration.

Clarke takes her mittenless hand out of her coat and reaches for Lexa’s, scooting closer for warmth. Together, they watch the flames of the bonfire and the various circusgoers that come and go around them.

After a few minutes, Lexa decides to speak.

“The man to our right,” Lexa murmurs. “The one holding a cane. His name is Edward, and he is here with his daughter. His favorite tent is the winter tent, and he has been visiting the circus since before we were born. The red carnation on his lapel never dies, a gift from the circus for his dedication.”

“Really?” Clarke asks. “What about the two boys directly across from us?”

“Their names are Lorcan and Lysander and they are here with their parents. I believe they do not have a favorite tent yet, but their parents enjoy the tarot card reader. When they first brought the two boys, the tarot card reader predicted that they would leave the circus that night having taken something that was not theirs. What she did not expect though, was that they would steal one of her tarot cards.”

Clarke chuckles, and then turns to Lexa. “Do you actually know these things, or are you pulling my leg?”

Lexa grins. “I guess you will never know, Clarke, unless you ask them yourself.”

Clarke considers it, but ultimately decides that satisfying her curiosity is not worth giving up her cozy spot next to Lexa. “One more,” she requests, and Lexa looks at her expectantly.

“Me,” states Clarke simply, and before she allows herself to see Lexa’s reaction to this, she leans her head against Lexa’s shoulder.

She waits a beat, then another.

Clarke is just about to rescind her request and apologize when Lexa opens her mouth.

“The blonde girl next to me,” Lexa begins slowly. “Her name is Clarke, and she is here with her parents. She does not have a favorite tent yet, but the most memorable one for her so far is the cloud forest. She got stuck there when she first visited and had to be rescued.” Lexa grins at this. “Her scarf is a present from a member of the circus, a gift bestowed to convey that she is always welcome here.”

Clarke’s heart thuds, and warmth spreads throughout her body. She squeezes Lexa’s hand and snuggles in closer.

And that is the position they stay in, curled into one another while the snow falls softly and beautifully around them, watching the white flames of the bonfire and pointing out other reveurs they see until it is time for Clarke to leave once more.


	4. spring dix-huit

It’s springtime now, the weather bright and refreshing. The birds have returned from their winter voyages and chirp incessantly in the trees. Clarke steps out into the sunlight, having just finished her last class of the day, a wide smile on her face as she tilts her face towards the sun.

Being 18 means this is the last semester of classes, and the hours Clarke has put in to becoming a better architect have paid off – she’s set to go to the most prestigious architectural school in Paris in the fall.

Just as Clarke is about to decide what she wants to do for the rest of the afternoon, she hears a patter of heavy footsteps approaching from behind her.

“Clarke!” she hears. “What are you doing tonight?”

Clarke turns and sees Finn, her steady boyfriend of just over six months now, jogging over to her slightly out of breath, eyes alight with excitement.

“I don’t know yet. Why, is there something you want to do?” Clarke responds, smiling.

“I just overheard that there’s some sort of circus in town. Would you like to go with me tonight?” Finn asks, gradually calming down.

Clarke starts. A circus? _The_ circus?

The circus meant most definitely crossing paths with Lexa again, only this time…

Clarke schools her features into a smile, albeit a smaller one than before. Finn doesn’t know anything about the circus, or her ties to it, or the fact that there is a very pretty girl with green eyes that travels with it that she yearns to see every time. But everyone deserves to see the circus. She shouldn’t be selfish about it.

“Sure Finn, let’s go to the circus!” Clarke feels the words leave her mouth. And so it seems, this time Finn will be accompanying her to the circus. But temporarily, it seems worth it, as Finn beams so brightly that Clarke is reminded of the sunshine she stepped into just a moment ago.

The two head off towards their respective houses, about to part ways, and Clarke instructs, “Wear black and white, okay? Something on the fancier side. I’ll meet you in front of the Washington Monument at 11,” and then kisses Finn on the cheek and heads home.

At home, Clarke continues her internal dialogue, in turmoil with thoughts of the circus. She doesn’t know if the turning in her stomach is from excitement or dread – what if Lexa and Finn meet? But why should it matter to her? Sighing, Clarke resolves to take things as they come. What is important is that Finn has the best experience that he can on his first night ever at the circus.

Clarke prepares dinner and fiddles around with some architectural blueprints she’s been developing until both Jake and Abby are home. She makes eye contact with Jake, who seems to read her thoughts, since they end up blurting out at the same time, “The circus is here.”

Abby, laughing, chides them both, “How did I know that that would be the first thing you both said?”

Clarke can’t help but grin, and shares, “Oh, but Finn asked me to go with him, is that ok? I told him we would meet under the Monument at 11.”

“Of course, honey,” says Abby. “Maybe we’ll run into you in there!”

Jake pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. “Look at our daughter, Abby. Already trying to leave us behind. Forgetting who showed her to the circus in the first place.”

Clarke bumps her shoulder against gently against her father. “Come on, Dad. You know we’ll get to go again at some point.”

“Okay, okay kiddo.” Jake concedes. “Let’s eat!”

The Griffins eat, and while Jake and Abby do the dishes, Clarke fishes out the blueprints she was working on from earlier, and shows them to her parents. Taking note of their comments, she goes back to her room to work on them some more, until it’s time for her to get ready for her date with Finn at the circus.

Clarke rummages through her closet, lips pursed as she tries to find something suitable to wear. In the end, as it is spring, she chooses a soft white dress that goes down just to her knees, with lace designs patterned everywhere. She puts on her tights and then ties her blonde curls up with a black ribbon. Clarke is just about to head to the front door to put on her heels when she remembers – the scarf. How could she have almost forgotten the scarf?

She scrambles back to her closet, fumbling through the various articles of clothing that now all look the same, searching for the particular shade of red that is branded into her memory. Where is it?

“Clarke?” Clarke suddenly hears from the living room.

“Yeah Mom?” she hollers back.

“I think you might want to wear this tonight,” she hears, Abby’s voice growing slightly louder in volume as she approaches Clarke’s room.

Clarke turns to look, and sees the scarf she’s been looking for for the past 10 minutes. “I’ve been looking for that! Where’d you find it?”

“You don’t remember? Last time, your father and I told you that we like to keep our red reveur accessories together, so you let us fold your scarf away where we keep our things,” Abby responds.

“…Oh.” Clarke can only say, as she barely remembers this at all.

But the scarf on the other hand is exactly the same as she remembers it—the same shade of red, the same softness, the same reminder of Lexa that it always brings. She brings it close to her gently… and instantly remembers it all over again.

There’s Lexa, leading her through the maze of tents, and the chime of Jake’s clock at midnight, and the bonfire, with its flames rising higher, higher, and there are the other reveurs, their eyes alight with wonder, and then there’s Lexa again, turning towards her to present her with the scarf, and then there’s that pretty blush on her cheeks, and there’s snow falling gently, and the sound of laughter everywhere, and—

“Clarke?” Abby questions, and Clarke is suddenly shaken out of her memories. “Shouldn’t you get going, honey?”

“Yeah, yeah I should,” Clarke replies slowly. She slips into her heels and wraps the scarf around her neck, once, twice, thrice. “Bye Mom, Dad!” she calls out as she leaves.

“Bye Clarke!” she hears in response as she shuts the front door gently behind her.

Clarke meets Finn right on time where they discussed, the white obelisk jutting out impressively towards the night sky. Finn, true to Clarke’s instructions, has donned a suit, a smart bowtie encircling his neck. Clarke greets him with a soft kiss, and together they walk hand in hand towards the circus.

The line for tickets this time is short, so Clarke and Finn get to the ticket booth relatively quickly. The man in the booth sees Clarke’s scarf and immediately nods respectfully, waving the two of them through the gates into the circus.

“What was that?” Finn asks. “We don’t have to pay?”

“I think it’s because of my scarf,” Clarke speculates. “There’s a bunch of people who go to the circus whenever they can and they wear a touch of red. They’re called reveurs, and when the ticket booth man is feeling nice he’ll let you in for free.”

“Oh wow,” Finn responds. “That’s pretty cool. You should’ve told me you’ve been to the circus before! So you’re a reveur, huh?”

“Yeah,” Clarke grins up at Finn. “I am.”

They walk around the circus tents quietly for a bit, Finn taking everything in while Clarke points to the various patterns that adorn the tents.

Finn points to a tent. “What about this?” he asks.

Clarke looks and sees a small tent, entirely black save for two rectangles in white, one on each side of the entrance. The sign beside the tent reads, “Arcana”.

They lift the flap and duck through the tent opening and are met with a woman, seated behind a table. On the side nearer to the entrance are two cushions, one black and the other white. Finn cautiously sits on the black cushion, while Clarke settles down on the white one.

“Good evening,” the woman welcomes after Clarke and Finn have both sat down. She shuffles a deck of cards quickly and then spreads the deck out on the table.

“Please draw three cards each,” she directs.

Finn draws first, selecting his three and handing them over to the woman. She gestures to Clarke, “Please.”

Clarke selects three cards from the middle and passes them to the woman as well.

The woman places Finn’s three cards face up on the table. “The Fool. Temperance. The Emperor. There is structure in you, a desire to find meaning. If recklessness does not come to a head, you will be a great leader.”

Finn grins and chances a look at Clarke, who seems to be more contemplative. Recklessness sounds more like a warning than a compliment, but she supposes it’s Finn’s choice to do with this information what he will.

The woman then turns towards Clarke, laying her cards face up just as she did Finn’s. “The Sun. Strength. The Lovers.”

At this, she pauses. “I see, you are…” but then she trails off.

“Pardon?” Clarke asks.

“I apologize,” the woman says. “A slip of the tongue, if you will. Your cards: I see a sharp focus which may lead you to success. The happiness you seek along with it comes with the strength of a union.”

Clarke nods slowly, trying to commit the words to memory. This is the circus after all, and there must be truth to the woman’s words.

“Thank you,” she says, and Finn echoes the sentiment.

They move to exit the tent, Finn lifting up the flap so that Clarke can walk through. Clarke ducks her head just a fraction, and steps back to the realm of the outside, the circus with all its pathways and never-ending surprises.

Surprises—like the brunette beauty standing just outside the tent, posture upright and eyes focused on the two white rectangles of the tent’s design.

It’s Lexa

Of course. Who else would it be?

Clarke feels her heart stutter slightly in her chest, and then feels a force against her back. Finn has run into her, as she has stopped moving without realizing. But rather than turn around and apologize, her feet seem to have a will of their own, moving swiftly towards Lexa.

The distance between Clarke and Lexa is short, and within moments Clarke has basically crashed into Lexa, only slowing her pace at the very last second so that Lexa does not fall to the ground. She wraps her arms around Lexa tightly, shutting her eyes and hugging her as fiercely as possible.

The rest of the circus fades away, and Clarke can only hear her heart pounding, pounding, and feel Lexa’s waist, feel Lexa’s arms encircling her, firm as they always have been. When she finally opens her eyes and pulls away, she realizes that this is her favorite Lexa yet. Lexa, who is tall and thin now, whose baby fat is so completely gone that her cheekbones glint in the moonlight, whose eyeliner accentuates her green, green eyes that catch the light so very perfectly. Her hair’s in braids that curl up in spirals to form a bun, and her jawline is so very sharp and she smells like the forest with a hint of…flowers?

Clarke has all but forgotten her worries of running into Lexa at the circus again, when she feels a presence behind her. She turns and then remembers her boyfriend.

And all the worries come rushing back.

“Lexa, this is Finn, my boyfriend. And Finn, this is Lexa, my—I met her when I was six,” Clarke stutters through the introductions.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lexa,” Finn smiles politely, offering his hand.

Lexa nods respectfully, clasping his hand and shaking it twice before letting go. But Clarke is focused on her face, guilt slowly churning its way through her stomach. There is a small smile on Lexa’s face in return to Finn’s, but it doesn’t reach her eyes and—is that a glimmer of tears in her eyes or just a reflection of the moonlight?

But before she can dissect Lexa’s emotions, the handshake has ended and Finn turns to her. “I didn’t know you had a friend in the circus here, Clarke. I’m sure you guys haven’t seen each other in a while, years even! If you want to catch up for a bit, I can catch a different show or something and we can meet back up later…maybe I’ll go see the statues?”

Clarke’s heart melts a little at his thoughtfulness, and she would normally kiss him on the cheek in thanks, but it feels weird in front of Lexa. So she just squeezes his hand and promises to meet him back at the entrance of the circus.

“Thank you, Finn,” she says sincerely.

“No problem, Clarke,” he responds, before waving and disappearing among the rest of the circusgoers, fading into the background of the circus.

Clarke then turns back to Lexa, who has been watching the interaction silently, almost stoically. Lexa has always been the quiet type, but never with her, so Clarke asks for the sake of filling the silence, “Well, where should we go this time?”

Lexa simply turns and begins traversing yet another complicated route through the different tents that make up the circus, turning only once to make sure that Clarke is following. Clarke, now almost certain that Lexa is hurt, nervously tries to explain about her and Finn.

“I just…he’s really nice and sweet you know? And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him or anything, though I don’t know how I would have. Oh Lexa, please say something. Don’t be mad? It’s his first time at the circus and I thought it would only be fair to let him see how magical it is here,” Clarke rushes through her words, desperate to get Lexa to understand.

But Lexa still doesn’t turn around and she’s walking a bit quicker than Clarke is used to, or maybe Lexa’s just taller, but in any case it doesn’t matter because all of this is overshadowed by the fact that Lexa still hasn’t held out her hand for Clarke to hold.

Why hasn’t she offered her hand?

The thoughts keep Clarke preoccupied until Lexa finally stops in front of a large tent, alternating black and white triangular slices decorating the outside. The flag at the top of the tent looks almost to be glowing.

“Lexa, I—” Clarke tries again.

“Clarke, it is okay,” Lexa cuts her off softly. “I only see you once every few years, and it would not be fair to you to expect you to think of me very often. You should do whatever makes you happy.”

At this, Clarke’s heart wilts a little, and she reaches forward for Lexa, needing both to reassure and be reassured in turn. Lexa seems a bit surprised but melts into the hug anyway, sighing ever so softly when they pull apart.

Clarke, on the other hand, keeps her eyes closed just a moment longer. When they finally flutter open, Clarke sees Lexa right in front of her, adoringly fingering the red scarf she’s wearing.

“You’re wearing it,” Lexa notes softly.

Clarke fake pouts indignantly. “Of course I’m wearing it! How would I be able to face you if I wasn’t, huh?”

At this, Lexa grins widely, and Clarke is so stunned by the sight that she can’t do much but smile back in turn. Her stomach flips as Lexa finally, _finally_ reaches for her hand, and then drags her into the tent.

Inside, to Clarke’s surprise, is a giant oak tree, so tall that Clarke has to crane her head to look up at it. Branches and leaves fan out in every direction, and the tree emanates a soft glow.

That’s when Clarke notices the candles resting on every branch. True to the mysticism of the circus, none of the candles seem to be any dripping wax, and none of the tree leaves catch on fire.

“Would you like to make a wish?” Lexa asks softly, jarring Clarke out of her observations.

“A wish?” Clarke ponders. “Is that what the candles are?”

“Indeed,” Lexa responds. “Each candle represents a wish made by someone who has visited the circus.” She hands Clarke an unlit candle, smooth, with white wax.

Clarke thinks for a good long second, closing her eyes. She doesn’t notice that Lexa is looking at her with a gentle smile the entire time.

Clarke opens her eyes again. “I have a wish,” she says. “But how do I light the candle?”

“That’s the beauty of the tree,” Lexa explains. “Someone else’s wish will light yours and yours in turn will light one of the next wishes.”

With Lexa guiding her, Clarke gently taps her candle to the flame of one already on the tree and then places it on one of the lower branches. The candle that lit hers disappears from the lower branch and reappears higher in the tree.

“Have you ever made a wish?” Clarke asks Lexa.

“Yes I have,” Lexa responds.

“Did it come true?”

“It has, more than once I believe.”

Clarke is satisfied with this, and then remembers, “If each candle is lit by the previous one, then how was the first wish lit?”

“You are asking too many questions,” Lexa teases.

“Oh, so you just don’t know then, huh.”

Lexa mock sighs. “I suppose so.”

They turn to leave, and Clarke is thankful that Lexa is polite enough to not ask about her wish. She isn’t sure that she would be able to explain properly anyway.

Lexa walks Clarke to the circus entrance where Finn is waiting, as promised. She squeezes Clarke’s hand one last time before letting her go.

“It was nice meeting you, Lexa!” Finn says kindly.

“And you, Finn,” Lexa responds.

“Bye Lexa,” Clarke says wistfully.

“Goodbye, Clarke,” Lexa says back. “May we meet again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> key points: Clarke's cards, Lexa's wish, Clarke's wish


End file.
